The silence in the room was heavy, almost stifling. Frankenstein could not bear it, this heavy stillness. He also could not handle the expectant, inquisitive eyes that watched as he entered the room.
Tao was the first to break the silence. "How is he?" The question lingered in the air, repeating what all wanted to know but dared not say.
Frankenstein could not bring himself to lie, but he couldn't bring himself to voice his greatest fears. He could not bring himself to even answer. Instead, he faintly smiled, the expression not reaching his eyes. Unable to meet their gazes, he strode into the room, purposely avoiding their worried stares. "I am making him some tea."
The preparation of the tea took him away from the present moment, and only dwelling on the past. He became lost in his memories, the past battles lingering on his mind, playing before him in vivid flashbacks. Some memories were more drastic than reality, while some were so muddled with fear and guilt that he could not recall them correctly.
But what he could recall was his failure.
He had not been fast enough. He was not there when his Master needed him.
Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he left the room, carrying the tea tray. As an afterthought, he had placed a few cookies on a small plate. Making his way up the stairs, his steps became heavy, and he faltered. The guilt and worry came back in full force, but he feared leaving his Master alone for longer than necessary, and he continued moving forward until he came to the elaborate bedroom door.
He knocked twice as a courtesy. He did not need to announce his presence. His Master could sense him through the bond anyway.
Balancing the tray in one hand, he opened the door with his other. "Master," he said with a gentle tone. "I brought you some tea." His gaze was averted, focused down on the ground. The pressure to raise his head was difficult to bear. Though he desired to look at his Master, he could not be reminded of the tragedy they had barely avoided.
A breathless sigh could be heard. "Thank you."
Frankenstein finally looked up, and his heart broke as agony attacked him at the sight before him.
His Master sat in a chair, his hair damp with sweat. His figure trembled slightly as he raised his head, tired red eyes filled with such pain. From his left shoulder, draping over him like a flowing red cape, was one wing, its large and delicate feathers brushing against the floor. The wing twitched with every breath his Master took.
Frankenstein finally dragged his gaze to the very cause of his Master's current pain and distress. Protruding from his right shoulder, white bandages soaked with blood, was the remains of his Master's wing; a casualty of the battle against Largus.
He did not know that Noble's had wings.
Well, maybe they didn't, and that was only inherited by the Noblesse. Frankenstein had never seen another Noble with wings other than his Master. Even after living with him for many years, Frankenstein had yet to determine if it was a Noblesse thing, or if it was simply just a 'Cadis Etrama di Raizel' thing. Like having eight teaspoons of sugar in his tea and craving sweets was a 'Raizel' thing, perhaps wings were his thing as well.
Granted, Frankenstein could always ask his Master upfront about the wings, but he prided himself in observing the facts and investigating for himself. There was something about the thrill of the hunt that intrigued him, and this was a new discovery.
He was amusing his Master with the pursuit of his current obsession. He could feel it through the bond. Frankenstein learned to brush off the feeling over the years, but there were always moments when his Master's amusement would spike up through the bond and startle him. He could never quite predict when and what his Master would be amused by. He just learned to expect it.
"Are you that determined to find the meaning behind my wings?" Raizel had asked once, humor lighting his tone as he sipped his tea.
Frankenstein shrugged. "Were you born with wings?"
"I had assumed that you wanted to find that out on your own."
"It's been sixty years, Master."
"Hm. Gejutel thought you would have waited longer." Raizel crossed his legs, ready to speak, only to fall silent once more at Frankenstein's raised hand.
"Hold that thought, Master."
Raizel's lips twitched from the smile threatening to burst forth as his servant left the room, no doubt incensed that Gejutel was interfering with his research.
In the end, the answer proved to be less interesting than he could have hoped for.
"He was born with them," Frankenstein grouched.
Rayga had merely hummed, the mask hiding his knowing smirk. "Shocking."
Frankenstein ever so carefully removed the bandages, the dried blood crusting away. He stilled at his Master's trembling breath, but there was no expression of pain on his face, nor feeling of hurt through the bond.
"Keep going," his Master breathed.
Frankenstein nodded. His hand trailed down to rest on his Master's shoulder in a comforting touch. Raizel leaned into the touch ever so softly, his eyes fluttering closed.
Frankenstein continued with his work, pulling the bandages away to reveal the ruined wing his Master had lost. Mangled feathers covered in blood stuck out, the bone of the wing connected to his Master's back now exposed to the clean air. The flesh from where Largus had attacked his Master was cut smoothly, as if his Master's beautiful wing had been soft and flimsy before coming into contact with a sharp steel weapon.
Frankenstein did not know what else to do, other than to re-wrap what was left of the wing and clean the wound to avoid infection. He had treated his Master's missing wing like anyone would with an amputated limb, except this was not a missing arm or leg. This was a wing. How was he to treat this? His hands trembled at the thought, worry filling him. Was he doing his Master more harm than good? Even the Nobles did not know what to do.
Nobles did not have the regeneration of a werewolf. Treating a missing appendage such as an eye or a finger was easy for them. But an entire limb such as a wing was nearly impossible.
"It will heal," Raizel assured him, sensing the distress of his bonded. But even as he spoke, there was uncertainty.
He had never witnessed his Master use his wings to fly. In fact, he had never seen the Noblesse fly at all. Anytime he could coax him out of the house, his Master would walk, the tips of his large wings brushing against the ground.
His Master's wings were magnificent. The feathers of his wings were the color of the deepest red, almost crimson. However, Frankenstein knew them to be soft and light. When he had first snuck into the mansion, he had wondered at the large doorways and halls. Then he had met his Master, and he understood why the doors were so tall and wide.
The crunch of his boots against the pathway drew him from his thoughts, and he glanced at his Master. His wings fluttered for a bit in the wind, and Frankenstein took one step back as his Master's wings stretched out for a bit.
He did not know how large his Master's wingspan was. Raizel never stretched out his wings to expose just how large they were. At first, Frankenstein had worried that his Master might feel confined, maybe even a little cramped. But the Noblesse had never displayed such discomfort.
He wondered if the feathers of his Master's wings were soft, or if they were hard like sandpaper. Could his Master even fly? Surely those massive wings, wings Frankenstein had yet to see the true size of, could hold the Noblesse's weight! His Master did not appear to be a heavy being. In fact, sometimes, he looked to be dangerously small.
He blinked as a disturbing thought occurred to him. Was his Master afraid...of heights?
An embarrassed cough, almost a squeak, caused Frankenstein to glance at his Master with concern. To his confusion, the Noblesse's pale cheeks were pink, his eyes averted from looking at Frankenstein. Why was his Master so flustered all of the sudden? He could sense his Master's indignant feelings through the bond...
...oh...right...the bond. Unfiltered thoughts and...his Master could...oh.
Frankenstein cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed. Oh well. He might as well own up to it and outright ask him. "Master...are you-?"
"No."
Frankenstein watched with hesitant hope as his Master stood before him. With a trembling breath, he flapped his uninjured wing. Frankenstein stretched out his senses, feeling his Master's worry through the bond. The expectation for the pain was present, as was the hurt over the loss of his wing.
What was left of his injured wing twitched, and the slightest bit of a grimace flickered over his Master's face. Frankenstein instantly rushed forward, not knowing what to do but unable to do nothing.
"It's alright."
The words were silent and held no emotion, and Frankenstein froze, his hand mere inches from his Master's shoulder. The Noblesse's jaw was tight, locking in any sound that might escape and betray his pain.
"Master," Frankenstein trembled. "It...it will heal." Even as the lie slipped through his lips, he still could not help but hope for a miracle.
Raizel turned to face Frankenstein with a sad smile. His arms hung limply at his sides. His red wing dragged on the ground, limp and weary.
"It hurts."
What his Master could not speak out-loud, he could only confide through the safety of the bond. Frankenstein offered all the comfort he could give through the bond. He touched his Master's shoulder comfortingly, even as he wanted to hold and protect his Master from the pain that afflicted his body.
Raizel cocked his head, staring at Frankenstein with astonishment. His expression was so shockingly innocent that Frankenstein could not help but snort with laughter.
"A what?" his Master repeated, surprised.
"An angel, sir," Frankenstein clarified. "It had just occurred to me that you have the appearance of an angel."
Raizel's eyes drifted to his shoulders where a stray red feather brushed up against the tip of his shirt. "But I'm not an angel," he said.
Frankenstein barely resisted sighing. "I think you are missing my point…"
"Angels," Raizel continued thoughtfully, "are beings of virtue, messengers, and at times, protectors. They are also deemed as guardians and superior in all things." He tilted his head quizzically. "Why would you compare me to an angel?"
Frankenstein stared with a deadpan expression. His Master's wings barely moved as the Noblesse awaited a response for the oh so obvious answer. However, Frankenstein doubted that his Master could make sense of the 'you have wings and therefore reminded me of an angel. Just a careless thought, don't mind me' explanation. Frankenstein only shrugged. "Alright, sir," Frankenstein said simply. "Perhaps you would prefer the term 'fairy' instead?"
Frankenstein watched as his Master stood before the door. He could feel the Noblesse's power surrounding him. His wing was still bandaged, but thankfully, the blood was not leaking through anymore. But still, Frankenstein would have preferred for his Master to wait and rest a little while longer. He had already voiced his worries, expressed his hope that his Master would take care of his health and rest until the wing was at least healed. But his Master had merely smiled.
"I don't want to miss out on the life you have prepared for me."
So, his Master was going to school. If situations had been different, Frankenstein would have been thrilled that his Master, a student, was looking forward to school. But with his current state, Frankenstein could only fret. However, he had locked away those emotions. He did not want to fill his Master with needless concern or guilt. Going to school, being with the children, brought his Master joy, and who was he to deprive him of it?
He watched from afar as his Master walked through the gates. The human children were eagerly chattering away, their attention only drawn to the sound of the gate opening.
Excited shouts filled the streets as the children rushed towards his Master. In their eyes, Raizel appeared to be fine with no injuries and no wings whatsoever. Any human to gaze upon the Noblesse would only see a normal student with nothing unusual about him. It was part of his Master's ability, to hide his wings unless he chose to lift the veil from their eyes and reveal his hidden wings.
But the children were perceptive as ever. Even the Noblesse's abilities could not hide everything.
"Rai, are you sick?"
"Yeah, what's wrong?"
Frankenstein stiffened up as the smiles turned to concerned frowns, their laughter fading away to worry. Could they detect that his Master was unwell? Or was his Master too weak to properly hide his condition?
"Oh! I guess he's not sick since he's smiling!"
"Yeah, you must be tired from the airplane!"
"Poor Rai. We'll treat you to some ramen after school."
Frankenstein sighed as their voices faded away, watching as his Master was surrounded by his companions. A smile, he knew, could hide pain, and his Master was hiding many things for the benefit of others. For once, Frankenstein wished his Master would cooperate for his own benefit.
"Woah!" Shinwoo had exclaimed. "Rai has wings!"
The excited exclamations of the children had caused Frankenstein to smile. His Master's cheeks were a faint pink at the attention he was receiving for having wings. The Noblesse was being bombarded with questions from his human friends. However, his smile slipped as a sad thought occurred to him.
His Master intended to erase the children's memories of the DA-5, and everything else, once more.
"Look at how big they are! You're a fairy!"
But he would delay the inevitable for as long as possible as the excited atmosphere continued to grow.
He was feeling nothing but a soothing calmness.
His eyes snapped open. He leaped out of bed, scrambling out of his room and rushing down the halls. His gaze fell on the small figure on the balcony. Wide, startled eyes met his, before sheepishness descended on his face.
Frankenstein opened the balcony doors. "Master," he said, his voice quiet and, he hoped, soothing. "You shouldn't be straining yourself." The attempt at hiding from the bond had alerted Frankenstein to what his Master intended to do. He could understand his Master's desire to test out the strength of his body, or what was left of it, but Frankenstein would not allow his Master to push himself anymore to the breaking point.
Raizel avoided his gaze. His remaining wing fluttered in the nighttime breeze, red feathers soundlessly moving. The Noblesse looked back up at the starry night sky, his gaze one of longing.
Frankenstein was filled with understanding. "Master, if you rest and give your body time to heal, we will..." Will what? Restore his wing? Refill his lifespan? The wishes and desires Frankenstein yearned for seemed near impossible. How? How could everything become so unattainable?
Raizel looked at him with such hope shining in his eyes, very much like how the stars brighten the dark sky.
Frankenstein gently smiled, his heart recoiling at the false hope he was no doubt giving himself, and his Master. "I promise, we will see you flying again."
Please, he thought silently, let me fulfill this promise.
He hated this, this part of the memory. Dark Spear only needed to torment him with the reality of the past and leave him to drown in his guilt.
He was not there. He was not there to see Largus maliciously cut through his Master's wing. He was not there to protect his Master from the power mad, bloodthirsty monster. But he shared his Master's pain, a silent scream tearing through the bond as unbelievable hot pain filled Frankenstein. His Master's crimson tears had stained the earth at the loss of his wing.
The sight of his Master's broken body made him wish Largus was never allowed a peaceful death such as Eternal Sleep.
His Master's shirt, stained with blood from where Largus had cut him, was torn in the back. His damaged wing, the one Largus had attacked, lay in a broken, mangled mess. The beautiful, red feathers lay limp and lifeless.
His Master's eyes, filled with grief and pain not only for the loss of his wing but for the death of his companions, nearly had Frankenstein rushing to embrace him. Never had he come so close to committing such an act. Entertain the thought? Yes. Initiating it? No. But he came close. If only to take away all that pain and bring joy back to those eyes.
"You were not there for him."
Frankenstein gasped, lurching upward in his bed, surrounded by the darkness of his room. He raised a trembling hand to his head, breathing deeply.
His Master.
His wings
His bonded.
He sighed. Well, there was no use in lingering here if he was to be tormented. With a disheartened frown, he slipped out of bed and left his room. It was way too late for anyone to be up, but he knew of one being staying up late watching the stars. He almost smirked in knowing amusement as he saw his Master sitting outside on the balcony, sitting on one of the lounge chairs.
Frankenstein silently opened the balcony door. His Master's tired gaze focused on him.
"May I join you?"
The Noblesse smiled. "Please."
As Frankenstein sat down right next to his Master, he could not help but reflect on what he could change. If only he had been there to fight alongside his Master when Largus had mutilated him. If only he had been strong enough to protect him. If only he had found a way to replenish his Master's lifeforce or stop the traitors all those years ago.
If only he had been strong enough.
If only he had wings to offer his Master, a way for him to fly and be made whole again.
If only...
A/N: So, I was going to end this on a happy note with Muzaka transferring his power to Rai and therefore healing Rai. But...why don't we leave this as a semi-tragedy? ;)